


Pretty Little Kings

by allthemagicthings



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub Play, Exhibitionism, M/M, Multi, Other, Powerplay, Switch!Eliot, bc it's Q so of course there is, dom!Idri, self doubt, sub!Quentin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 10:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthemagicthings/pseuds/allthemagicthings
Summary: He should have known better. After several months of living in the same cottage as Eliot Waugh, one should comprehend that barging into the boy’s room was barely ever a good idea. Quentin had witnessed scenes varying from embarrassing (for him rather than Eliot) over to straight up confusing.But Quentin had never seen anything like this. Every thought about the talking pig currently located in the throne room and demanding to speak to the High King disappeared when he opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Eliot Waugh on his knees.





	Pretty Little Kings

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm I have no idea where this came from but I blame Sarah and those gifs, you know which ones  
I swear I am still innocent I barely even roostered so it doesn't count

He should have known better. After several months of living in the same cottage as Eliot Waugh, one should comprehend that barging into the boy’s room was barely ever a good idea. Quentin had witnessed scenes varying from embarrassing (for him rather than Eliot) over to straight up confusing. 

  
  


But Quentin had never seen anything like _this_. Every thought about the talking pig currently located in the throne room and demanding to speak to the High King disappeared when he opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Eliot Waugh on his knees. 

  
  


It only got worse from there. He was kneeling in front of the Lorian King- Idri, if Quentin remembered correctly- his head hovering over his naked groin, bobbing up and down, his hands tied together behind his back in an intricate pattern. For some reason that was what Quentin’s mind chose to concentrate on, the complicated knots reaching from his elbows to his hands. It must have taken a long time, Quentin thought, to bind his hands together like that. 

  
  


He could barely imagine Eliot- his ridiculously energetic, fiery Eliot, staying still long enough to make this possible. Had he really just kneeled there, for what might have been hours, patiently waiting for Idri to take the ability to use his hands away from him? Or had he been struggling against it, until the other man, bigger and stronger than El, had overpowered him? The thought only powered the heat building up inside of Quentin's body.

  
  


Quentin knew Eliot liked to play his games. He had heard about their alliance with Loria, the engagement that had come with it, the quips about espionage in bed. Eliot surely knew how to use his sexuality as a weapon, but he wasn't sure if that was the case right now. 

  
  


Right now Eliot looked positively helpless, the other man's hands buried deep between his locks, using his mouth for his own pleasure. Quentin could barely see Eliot's eyes, but in the glimpses he caught they looked dazed and content. The whole scenario was way more intimate than what he had expected Idri's and Eliot's encounters to be like. Quentin really had no right to feel jealousy and yet. . .

  
  


He finally let out a breath, staggered backwards, mumbling "sorry" or something alike, he wasn't even sure himself but Idri locked eyes with him and firmly shook his head. Quentin could still leave, theoretically. Unlike Eliot, he wasn't bound to anything, didn't have any obligations or missions he had to fulfill, but Idri's hand left Eliot's hair so he could motion Quentin to come closer and he complied without another thought.

  
  


If Quentin didn’t already turn into a complete mess at the sight, he did at the sound Eliot made when Idri pulled him off his cock by his hair. A high pitched whine accompanied by big begging eyes aimed at Idri, trying to convince him to put him back into his place.

  
  


And then he spotted Quentin. 

  
  


The way Eliot’s whole demeanor could change in an instant was incomprehensible to him, the way he straightened his back, just the tiniest bit, the sharpness that filled his eyes up, the devilish grin that spread over his face. Quentin shifted, remembering the way he felt back when Margo and Eliot had found him, eyeing him thoughtfully, determining if he was worth keeping. He felt like prey. 

  
  


He couldn’t move, not even a finger, couldn’t turn his head or close his eyes. They didn’t even need rope to keep him in place, he realised. Quentin was where Eliot and Idri wanted him to be and he would not be able to leave as long as they wanted him there. Just one word, them telling him to go, to leave, to forget about this and he would bail, would run for his life, hide inside the folds of his bed and try to delete the images out of his mind. 

  
  


Instead of telling him to leave, Idri let out a low chuckle, one that Quentin felt to his core. "Well, Fillory really does have two good little kings, doesn't it?" Eliot only rolled his eyes. "Well, you told me this one is yours, so it's your decision what we do with him. I've made plans for the evening, but if you want to divert-" Idri shrugged, but Eliot shook his head. 

  
  


He fully turned around (surprisingly graceful considering the state he was in), looking deep into Quentin's eyes. "I'm really not up for big discussions right now, Q, but I really don't want to send you away either. What we can do is very limited until we have those discussions but the most important thing is I need a yes from you. Right now." Quentin blinked. Eliot's words didn't make sense to him, why wouldn't he want him to leave? He had clearly intruded on a private moment, what reason did Eliot have for him to stay? 

  
  


"You can say no and leave. Or say yes and stay, but if you do that you do what I tell you, and only what I tell you, understood?" Quentin nodded. He was still confused about the whole situation, but doing what Eliot told him to do was a thing that made sense, so he'd cling to that. "I'll need words, Q. If you agree and want to stay I need a yes."

  
  


Quentin took a moment, reviewing the situation in his head. He still couldn't fully comprehend why Eliot wanted him there, but he had a chance to stay and he desperately wanted to. All it would take him was one little "Yes." Quentin cringed when the sound came out more as a squeak than an actually word, but El seemed content enough, the grin slowly reappearing on his face. "Good boy." He said, biting his lip.

  
  


"Then sit down, get a better view.", He pointed to a spot a couple of steps away from him and Quentin sunk to the floor as soon as he reached it. "If anything that happens here truly makes you uncomfortable you can still leave, turn away, close your eyes or even tell us to stop. Otherwise. . ." Eliot looked back up to Idri who gave him an approving nod, then back to Quentin. 

  
  


"Watch."

  
  


Eliot turned back to Idri, and just like that he changed back into a big eyed pleading boy. Quentin was nothing short of _fascinated _by the way he could switch from someone who had total control of the situation to someone so seemingly lost. It was a thing of beauty. “May I?” He asked Idri and as soon as the King’s mouth twitched upwards his entire cock was stuffed back into Eliot's throat. Idri groaned, facing Quentin. "He is really good at this, your king.” He paused, thumbs stroking over Eliot’s cheeks. “And so, so pretty." Quentin took more time to take in the view now, having taken another perspective and knowing that he wouldn't have to leave any time soon. 

  
  


There wasn't a single piece of clothing left on Eliot's body to hide it from Quentin's hungry eyes. His knees, shins and feet were connected to the floor in a straight line, his ass resting on top of the latter, his bound hands almost reaching it. Quentin admired the soft curves and the sharp edges of Eliot's body, the way they played together in such a mesmerizing harmony. 

  
  


He couldn't help but lick his lips when he spotted Eliot's cock, rock hard and pressed against his belly, already leaking pre cum. His head was bowed slightly and on top of it- Quentin’s breath stopped- rested his crown. The scene looked like a work of art, an instillation full of metaphors Quentin was yet to decipher.

  
  


What was the story they had been playing before he had interrupted them? Had it been passion, too strong to strip Eliot of that last accessoire, before pushing him down onto his knees and taking him? 

  
  


No, it was way too calculated for that, the ropes weren't something Idri had used to bind him quickly, he had taken his time. Maybe he just liked the way Eliot looked with it, the jewels that complimented his face making him look like something valuable and precious, something you'd not only want to make your own, but something you'd be honoured to have. 

  
  


Then again, wouldn't he be decorated with more than that? If that was what this was about, why would he be stripped bare of his necklaces and wristbands, even the rings? The crown was the only thing left- well the crown and the rope- and Eliot looked almost vulnerable without the usual treasures he used to express himself with.

  
  


He was still beautiful, of course he was, the beauty just seemed different, seemed- no simple wasn’t the right word to use, not for Eliot, never for Eliot. Eliot’s beauty, with or without jewellery was far too complicated to be called simple, even bare Quentin found a new beautiful thing whenever he looked at Eliot, a dimple, a mole, a curve, an edge. 

  
  


There was nothing traditional about him, nothing Quentin could explain, but this man had managed to make every tiny flaw his body might have had into an improvement, managed to make himself into someone people stared after with hungry eyes, but without ever being sated, because there wasn’t a way to understand. Eliot’s beauty didn’t make sense, it just was. 

  
  


Quentin had a clue what the game was now, the crown and the rope being the biggest hints. Idri had Fillory’s High King at his feet. He had the most powerful person in this country servicing him, worshipping him, even. This was about _power_, Quentin realised and he knew Eliot wouldn’t play this sort of game with someone he didn't trust, nor would he strip off his rings for it, if it didn’t mean anything to him.

  
  


It was true, he noticed, when he examined Idri’s face closer. Between the moans and the smirks at the other man, Quentin found true adoration for Eliot in his gaze, an adoration he understood better than anyone. 

  
  


His jealousy should have grown, but he was glad, instead. Glad, that someone else had realised the true worth Eliot Waugh held, that he could make him happy, could take care of him- maybe better than Quentin ever could. This was good for Eliot and gods did this man deserve something good.

  
  


"So good, darling, you're so good" Idri kept praising him as Eliot worked away and Quentin wanted to agree so badly, to let Eliot know that those words weren't just some sex thing- not for Idri, not for him, it was the closest thing they could say to the truth. The truth wasn't good, nor was he great or amazing, he was gifted or smart in the same, complex, indescribable way he beautiful.

  
  


The truth was there were no words in this or any other language mighty enough to describe what Eliot Waugh was. Telling he was good was a pathetic attempt at being honest, but It's all they could do considering their vast and obvious limitations and Quentin wanted to tell him, wanted to shout it from the rooftops, tell him all these things and how none of them will ever be enough.

  
  


But Eliot hadn't told him he was allowed to talk and the mere thought of disobeying him made Quentin's stomach twist. 

  
  


Eliot had already been generous enough, allowing him to watch. A part of him hoped he'd done it because he liked Quentin, at least somewhat. That the attraction he had felt coming from the other man, back when they hadn't been more than a couple of naive students living a careless life, hadn't been imaginary. 

  
  


It was a nice thought to have, as unlikely as it was. Eliot probably had some exhibitionist fantasy he had discussed with his _fiance _and the fates had played their cards so Quentin would profit from it, too. As he kept observing all the ways Eliot made his tongue dance around another man's length- an image that would be reused in many future jerk off sessions- he reminded himself to send out a quick little sacrifice to Fortuna, or Eros, or maybe even Ember, telling the gods that he appreciated their gift. 

  
  


Judging by the increasing frequency of grunts coming from Idri, he was nearing the edge. This only seemed to spur Eliot on. While the extreme expertise got lost along the way, his pace picked up, he hollowed his cheeks and let Idri hit the back of his throat so many times that he started choking, although he still didn't stop. Quentin could feel himself twitch in his pants. 

  
  


Before Idri could finish, he grabbed Eliot by the neck and harshly pulled him away, similar to what he did earlier, when Quentin had intruded. Eliot’s tongue darted out anyway, chasing for the other man but he just caressed his face until he somewhat calmed down. “Not yet, my darling boy, there is still so much to do.” Idri told him, “You can’t forget about our little guest. We want to give him a show, don't we?" 

  
  


Eliot was still trying to pull himself together, just staring at Idri, clearly confused why the other hadn't just used his chance to come buried deeply inside of his throat. "Don't you want him to watch me fuck you?"

  
  


Oh.

  
  


Quentin should leave. Before things went too far. It wasn't too late for him, yet. Things would be awkward with Eliot, his longing would increase, he'd never be able to forget about this, stop fantasizing about this, but maybe he'd be able to move on someday. 

  
  


If he'd witness Idri actually _fucking_ him? Eliot's face as he was filled up again and again, his moans, his screams, the way he'd look when he came- Quentin would be _ruined_. He'd never be able to get over Eliot, it wouldn't matter if the other man would be married _twice_, if he had no interest in Quentin whatsoever. He'd be a goner, longing for him for the rest of his life. 

  
  


Eliot nodded, ensuring Quentin's fate, because let's face it, he was _already_ a goner. Offered the opportunity, he wouldn't turn away, no matter the consequences.

  
  


“Good.” Idri said, stood up and- just like that- pulled Eliot onto the bed. Gods, the man really was strong. And that wasn’t the only enticing thing about him, Quentin thought, eyeing the other man more closely. Eliot was what had pulled him into this situation and his feelings for him, the history they shared, where what made him feel on fire.

  
  


Idri didn't disturb that. The man was very nice to look at, even if the daddy type wasn't what Quentin would usually go after, but- oh who was he kidding, Quentin never came after people, he waited for people to come after him or he pined for literal years. It wasn't just Idri's looks, though. Idri was a patient man, an understanding one and the way he took charge of a situation was- yeah Quentin was fully hard at this point.

  
  


His view of Eliot, beautiful, stunning, breathtaking Eliot, chin pressed into the bed, ass up and interested eyes fixated on Quentin of all things, didn’t exactly help, It didn’t take much, just Idri's fingers entering the man beneath him, one after the other in quick succession, using lube they had brought from earth- and Eliot's groan, Eliot's eyes screwing shut, for Quentin to become unable to contain himself anymore. He started rutting against the floor, then his leg after he shifted a bit, hoping it was subtle enough but alas.

  
  


"Darling, your little plaything is misbehaving." Idri straight up _growled_ and a whimper escaped Quentin's mouth before he could stop it. Eliot’s eyes flew open again, but instead of saying something immediately, he waited, watched until Quentin just had to give in and thrust against his leg again. He had tried to make it unnoticeable, had tried to be careful, but Idri’s fingers had kept working Eliot’s ass, opening him up, getting him ready to be fucked and that thought had been too irresistible. 

  
  


“Stop.” Eliot shouldn’t be able to sound this commanding while bent over, not that anything about this man made any sort of sense. “I didn’t allow you to- ah” He had to pause. Quentin was sure Idri had found his prostate, from the way the older man grinned. “I didn’t allow you to do that Q and- fuck” Idris seemed to enjoy watching Eliot struggle to keep up his composure with him. “god fucking damn it, just don't touch yourself if i don't tell you to, fuck, fuck, fuck- _Idri-”_

  
  


The man laughed and pulled his fingers out of Eliot. “You are still too coherent, darling. But maybe it’s better to be, for now.” Eliot was still struggling to catch his breath. “I don’t plan on you being able to think straight for much longer and I know you want to be able to 

make some conscious decisions.” Idri turned Eliot’s head until he was looking right into Quentin’s eyes. 

  
  


“I wouldn’t mind taking charge of both of you, pretty little kings, but you made it clear that until discussions happen he is your responsibility.” Quentin shivered at Idri’s words, he wouldn’t have expected to be included into their game like _this_, he couldn’t even comprehend what this inclusion could mean. “So decide now, darling. I’m going to fuck you until you are completely taken apart, I don’t plan on behaving any differently than I usually do and then I’m going to take good care of you. If you’re fine with that, tell him how to behave for the rest of the night _now._”

  
  


Eliot nodded. “Yes, got it, I just need- I need a moment to think. His voice was raspy, his breathing ragged. _Do it_. Quentin thought, _tell me what to do, El, tell me what I can do to make this work, what I can do to make you happy_. The room was silent, Eliot's eyes shut while he was thinking, Idri caressing his hair, patient as always and Q? He was frozen still. _Just please don't throw me out, anything but that, I wanna be good for you I wanna be with you, I wanna-_

  
  


"Stay." Eliot's voice broke the silence. "Just like that. No touching yourself, no rutting against anything. Stay still and _watch_. When we’re done, gods I can’t believe I’m saying this but- leave.” There it was. Of course Eliot wouldn’t want him for more than a little fun, what had he even been thinking. 

  
  


“Just to take care of yourself, Q don’t look at me with those big sad eyes, believe me I’d love to see you when you- but it’s. . . no we gotta wait. Take care of yourself and change into your night clothes and then come back.” What? “Come back and spend the night with us, not like that, your thoughts really are loud and clear and I’m not even psychic, jesus- just to sleep. And cuddle, you probably need that as much as me and then we can. . . we can talk in the morning.”

  
  


It didn’t make sense. Quentin wasn’t the someone Eliot had feelings for, Idri was right _there,_ nodding along and- why would they want him at all. They worked, he was useless, he was a funny little prop for their games maybe, nothing more and it was already enough. “Can you do that for me, Q? Can you promise that you will do that for me? Because if you can’t you’ll need to leave now, of course you can still come back when this is over, in an hour maybe but if you can, I’d love for you to stay.”

Quentin nodded along. _Anything, anything for you, El. _He decided not to question the other man anymore, there was no reason to, he trusted Eliot. Staying still while watching what was inevitably bound to happen would be a challenge to say the least, but he was sure he could do it. For Eliot. _Anything for Eliot. _“Yes”, he said remembering that Eliot liked verbal consent. “Yes, I can do this.” What was his voice doing? Gods, what was _he _doing? “I promise.”

  
  


It doesn't matter, he kept telling himself, just trust Eliot and it will be alright. Take what you can get. So he smiled back when Eliot's face turned happy, shivered when he licked his lips and then Eliot _screamed._

  
  


Idri had taken the opportunity to thrust himself into his fiance while he had been otherwise occupied. "Sorry, you were finished, weren't you?" He stilled, buried deep inside the other man. Eliot was nodding frantically. 

  
  


"Yes, I'm done, we're settled, _please._" Idri still didn't move, the grin on his face made him look playful, so different than how Quentin knew him. 

  
  


"Well who am I to deny you? Now relax darling, I'll watch over the him, you don't need to worry about anything anymore." With those words, Idri started moving and what a beautiful sight that was.

  
  


_Don't touch yourself_. He had to remind himself, while Eliot moaned and cried. The bed beneath them had to be enchanted somehow, or it would have broken apart from the force Idri was putting into this. _Don't move_. Eliot was arching his back, not unlike a cat and Quentin was reminded of the rope that was binding his hands together. How was it possible for him to look so elegant, still?

  
  


"I love the way you feel , my little king.” Idri groaned into Eliot’s ear, loud enough for Quentin to hear. “So warm and tight around me, so welcoming- _don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch_. "You are so good, taking me like this, my darling." _Stay still_, Eliot had told him, _stay still_. "You surrender to me so easily, so beautifully. Can't believe you ever thought you could do anything but surrender to me."

  
  


So Quentin had been right, thinking this was at least somewhat about their political positions. The High King of Fillory bound and bend over of the Lorian one, the other one kneeling just steps away. . .both being so _obedient-_ coupled with the trust he had in Idri to not abuse the situation (Eliot talked so much about discussions, there was no way this wasn't part of them) the thought was almost unbearably hot.

  
  


It felt like hours, Idri pulling out of Eliot, just to thrust back in, making the other man fall apart beneath him until all he was able to do was whimper, face pressed into the mattress. No matter how affected Idri himself was, he didn't stop talking, about how pretty Eliot was, how good and soft he felt, how well he took orders and even gave them and during all that Quentin was struggling to stay still. 

  
  


At some point he had given up on being completely frozen and started playing with his hair. His pants were tight, way too tight, but he wasn’t allowed to create any sort of friction so he had to distract his hands. His eyes kept watching, full concentration on the two men before him, but his hands started tugging on his hair, he bit down on a finger, scratched his neck, anything to lessen the need boiling in him. Instead he just increased it. 

  
  


Then, finally Idri changed his angle, just the tiniest bit and stopped talking, focusing all he had into the way he was fucking Eliot. The other man looked up, pupils blown and saw Quentin, Quentin who was still struggling, still making the situation worse for himself until he settled on clasping his hands behind his back.

  
  


He didn’t expect the moan wrung out of Eliot when he realised what Quentin was doing, while Idri’s pace picked up even more. “It’s okay darling.” the older man soothed, “You can let go.” and Eliot _did_.

  
  


Quentin would indeed _never_ be able to forget the face Eliot made when he came. It should be illegal to look like that when you orgasmed, it was simply unfair, to the rest of the world looking like dorks while this man just- was he even human? It seemed more and more impossible for him to be. Quentin had to give in, just for a second, just a little friction, he was sure no one would notice, not when Eliot was looking like _this and _making those fucking noises.

  
  


Looking at Quentin right now would be like paying attention to a candle while it was raining meteors. 

  
  


Idir followed soon after, using Eliot’s body to ride out his orgasm while the other man squirmed beneath him. Quentin’s mouth watered when Idri pulled out at last, come leaking down Eliot’s endlessly long legs, before he collapsed onto the bed. Immediately, Idri started untying his arms.

  
  


“Don’t think that went unnoticed, little one.” He addressed Q. “We’ll talk about that when we discuss everything else, but I can already tell you that I usually don’t let disobedience slide.” Quentin could only nod. Had it been scolding hot inside of this room since he came in or was that new? 

  
  


“Good. Now go, get some relief and I’ll take care of Eliot. I want you back here in 30 minutes, not a second later understood?” Did they really want him there? With them? No that couldn’t be, but- Idri looked sure of himself. He was not a person Quentin would dare to question, neither him nor Eliot, who looked so incredibly pleased when Quentin told them he’d hurry.

  
  


His mind kept telling him that he was nothing but a joke to them, all the way up to his room, but this once he managed to tell them to shut it. Why should he believe those voices instead of Eliot and Idri? The two men were clearly more trustworthy than them.

  
  


Of course he still wouldn’t be able to let himself feel wanted, but he at least managed to tune the doubts out. _No need to overthink any of this, _he told himself, _just do what they said. You want them, it’s what you want there is no reason to deny yourself. _

  
  


His clothes were discarded and thrown into a corner, almost as soon as he slammed the door of his room shut behind him. He hurried into the shower- not really a shower as much as a bath enchanted to function as one- and finally, _finally _wrapped his fingers around himself, feeling how hard he was. This is what Eliot and Idri could do to him, without a single touch.

  
  


He couldn’t even imagine the ways in which they’d make him fall apart if they got their hands on him- not that Quentin thought they wanted him like that but then again- no bad train of thought. Stop.

  
  


There were so many things he could think about, so much better than that. Like the sounds Eliot made when he was being fucked silly, the words Idri used to rile him up, Eliot’s long lean body stretched out on the bed, Idri telling him his misbehaviour would have consequences, the tone Eliot used on him when he gave orders, the way Idri had rubbed the other man’s arms soothingly, untying knot after knot, Eliot, Idri, both, the promise of more-

  
  


It took Quentin a couple of minutes, at most, to come down the drain. He sat down into the tub, panting heavily, replaying the scenes over and over again. _They want me to come back, _he told himself, _They said so, they want me to come back. _

  
  


Still, he couldn’t leave his room, even after he dried himself up, using the soft towels the castle provided and slipping into a pair of boxers and a bathrobe. 20 minutes, at most, had passed so he was in no hurry, but not wanting to seem desperate wasn't the only reason he couldn't get back up. For the first time he truly let himself consider that the men waiting for him really wanted him and as much as it sounded like the best thing imaginable, it worried him.

  
  


They worked, Idri made Eliot happy. What if he ruined that? Was he being selfish? Creating unnecessary problems when he could just stay here?

  
  


Another five minutes passed, then two more. 

  
  


No, he promised he’d be back. He could worry about the rest later, but for now he had to get back into Eliot’s room. He had to _make _himself open his door, had to bite his tongue and clench his fists for the way back, but he made it.

  
  


This time around, he had an idea of what to expect when he entered Eliot’s room. The image wasn’t too far off, Idri was laying on the right side of the bed Eliot wrapped up in his arms, his head buried in his chest. “There you are, little one.”, he said, “I was worried we’d have to get up and get you.” 

  
  


Quentin didn’t know how to behave, the two looked so serene, he didn’t want to disturb them. Eliot’s head perked up, a wide smile spreading on his face when he saw Quentin. “Q! Come here!” He extended his arm to him and despite his doubts he took the invitation. 

  
  


Eliot pulled him close, so close and Idri slung one arm around both. That was it, the human contact Quentin had s been craving so desperately. The arm around them tightened and Eliot buried his nose into Quentin’s neck, inhaling deeply. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He muttered, “You did so well, so so well, so good for me, Q.” The words made something inside of him stir up again, something he really hoped he had under control, unwilling to press a hard on into Eliot’s peaceful body. 

  
  


“I didn’t even do anything.” he answered, but neither Eliot nor Idri would take that as an answer. Eliot started babbling, obviously half asleep about how good he was, how difficult his task had been, how happy he was to have him, while Idri just firmly told him “None of that.”

  
  


He’d take it for now. It felt good, being praised and held like this, it made the voices go silent. Eliot might have whispered “I love you so much” at some point, but Quentin had already been drifting off to sleep, and even if he’d heard it, he’d probably just think it was aimed at Idri, not at both of them.

  
  


When he did fall asleep, it was with Eliot’s left arm and leg slung around him, Idri’s hand in his hair, his ears filled with soothing words and a content smile on his face. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this is supposed to be a one shot, I keep telling myself , but who knows  
my friends are horrible enablers
> 
> I have the same username for basically aanything so find me on tumblr as [allthemagicthings](https://allthemagicthings.tumblr.com/) and on twitter as [allthemagithgs](https://twitter.com/allthemagicthgs)


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